"You know the secrets and the wisdom of the ancients!" "Save us, Save
us! Show those money-bags, those cheats in the Curia the way to help
us!"

At this the president of the town-council ventured forth from his refuge
behind the statue of Trajan--the only image that the priesthood had
spared--and to climb a ladder which was used for lighting the hanging
lamps, so as to peep out of the high window.

He saw an old man in shining white linen robes, riding on a fine white
ass through the crowd which reverently made way for him. The lictors of
the town marched before him with their fasces, on to which they had tied
palm branches in token of a friendly embassy. Looking further he could
see that behind the old man came a slave, besides the one who drove his
ass, carrying a quantity of manuscript scrolls. This raised his hopes,
for the scrolls looked very old and yellow, and no doubt contained a
store of wisdom; nay, probably magic formulas and effectual charms.

With a loud exclamation of "Here he comes!" the senator descended the
ladder; in a few minutes the door was opened with a rattling of iron
bolts, and it was with a sigh of relief that they saw the old man come in
and none attempt to follow him.

When Horapollo entered the council-chamber he found the senators sitting
on their ivory chairs with as much dignified calm as though the meeting
had been uninterrupted; but at a sign from the president they all rose to
receive the old man, and he returned their greeting with reserve, as
homage due to him. He also accepted the raised seat, which the president
quitted in his honor while he himself took one of the ordinary chairs at
his side.